


Insurance

by gyruum



Category: Firefly
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-08
Updated: 2005-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:05:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyruum/pseuds/gyruum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fans of reptilian!Simon unite! I think mostly I just like the idea of Simon being Serenity's bicycle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insurance

"How many o'these you got, Doc? Maybe next go-round you bring an extra, see what comes of it."

It was one of Mal's kinder gestures of late. Nothing too out of character, as there was plenty of benefit in it for him, too, but a generosity nonetheless.

Simon hadn't considered pushing the boundaries of their arrangement. Every scholar within a thousand miles of the Core knew the basics of cost-benefit analysis, especially the businessmen and doctors. Of the list of possible...arrangements he'd sorted through in his daydreams, this is the one that'd happened to play out. Sweet, if one-sided. It was sufficient, at least for now. The captain obviously posed no argument. (Reason enough to stay with it for a spell, Simon mused.)

He knew the crew's behavior was shaping itself more and more to survival tactics every day. Beyond work and food it had now reached clothing and entertainment. Less team play in the cargo bay meant less sweaty clothes, less showering, and less water wasted. He'd cut back sleeping with Kaylee for the same reason, or so he told her. ( _Temporarily_ ). Then he mysteriously ran out of condoms. The truth was, he'd simply grown bored of it.

Pressure had become an eighth passenger on Serenity. It forced Zoe to sell most of Wash's possessions to fund their last fueling, calmed River to a state of remarkable focus, broke Inara to sub-Guild standards, and convinced Jayne to take up drinking again. And it made Mal lusty.

Explaining the state of things was hardly the way to woo Inara (a lesson he swiftly learned). She had long since given up the vision of Mal swooping in to take her away in his arms, gallant and righteous, clean and respectable, with a vocabulary the size of his ego and a heart as large as his...ego. She laughed now to think of it. His suggestion of servicing crew led to yet another tedious spat in which she ultimately challenged him to lead by example. And reminded him that she is not, in fact, one of his crew.

That was two weeks ago. She didn't need to know he'd set out and done it, and fortunately, Simon didn't seem keen on blabbing, either. Mal figured Simon had his reasons (none of which he wanted or needed to know). It seemed mostly visceral for both of them; that's what mattered most in his mind. None of that wishy-washy _goushi_. Mal had taken to topside out of habit without giving it a second thought, and a dozen sprawls later, they hadn't fallen from their pattern once. Maybe the monotony was wearing on him. Or maybe that was just the cheap latex.

"I think I could arrange that. But not this _feiwu_. I think I have a few dilevel blends in the infirmary."

"Really? I figured little Kaylee ate 'em all up by now."

"She thinks she did. I don't make a habit of using my last supplies when we're a week from docking."

Mal raised his eyebrows and smirked.

"Supplies are supplies!" Simon bit his lip. "I'm thorough." Finally breaking into a grin, he rose to get dressed.

****************

Serenity hadn't changed course in two days, and the whine and buzz of the engine reverberating throughout her had been tuned out by most of the crew. Particularly Simon. After spending an hour reading to River on the bridge ( _"Don't you have somewhere to be?"_ ), he sauntered down the steps with an ache in his gut and two square packages in his right pocket. He, like the rest, was used to the sorted grunts and moans behind Jayne's door during the long burns. And like the rest, he would either roll his eyes or hold back a laugh and go on his way.

He checked behind him to make sure River wasn't watching. Stepping up to the door, he listened momentarily for some assurance Jayne was alone. Fighting the increased hum of the heavy, steel door was the all too familiar, wet smack of solidarity. He reached for the door release and glanced once more over his shoulder before entering.

"Hey!" Jayne jerked his body 90 degrees so sharply he almost slammed his face into the wall. He scrambled for the edge of his pants by his ankles and nearly tried to zip them up without everyone safely inside. "They don't teach knocking in rich people school?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt your...activities. I see you're obviously very busy."

" _Zhen de shi tiancai_. Get the hell out!"

"I just thought you might need a hand." Simon had mastered stoic 'matter-of-fact.'

"What're you playin at?"

Last chance. "Would you like a hand." It was barely a question anymore. Barely was enough.

Jayne eyed him closely. He always preferred people saying what they meant, but he wasn't sure Simon really meant what he said. This would require some negotiating of the highest order.

"You wanna..." He pointed at his crotch with a moving gesture.

"Yes."

Jayne's brow tensed.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

This doc was tough. "I ain't kissin' no slicker."

"Nor am I."

He thought harder. "You pecker-sick? Little puss bubbles or sumthin' itchin' like--"

"No," he interrupted.

Jayne didn't know cost-benefit analysis from a cup of orange tea, but he could suss out some cock benefit analysis every now and then. He looked Simon over once from top to bottom before lying back down with his arms crossed behind his head.

"Yeah, alright."

Simon examined the scene and refrained from smiling, silently amused that the last time he'd gone to work on Jayne on a table, it was under quite different circumstances.

"Take off your shoes."

Jayne sat straight up and held out a finger. "You ain't gettin' nekkid."

"No."

Jayne did as he was told and laid back down. Simon dragged his left leg off the bed and sat down in its place.

"Grease's on the shelf," Jayne said and closed his eyes.

"I don't need it."

Simon shifted to better position himself between Jayne's legs. Though Jayne had managed to get himself tucked back in, he wasn't doing so swell of a job hiding it. Simon considered running a finger down the length of him, tracing along every last edge and back again, maybe sucking him hard through the grainy fabric just for a tease. No. Some things were only for Mal. ( _One-sided works when you're on the right side._ )

He mechanically unzipped Jayne's fly and worked everything through the not-generous-enough opening of his boxers. Nothing here surprised him. Jayne was an unkempt, uncut, thick-headed lug down to every last inch. Simon made a mental note never to inform the Captain just how many inches that was.

As expected, not all was lost from the moments before Simon entered. His hand slid easily along the shaft, squeezing generously on the way up. He grazed his thumb across the head, teased the sharp lines around it. Jayne was ridiculously predictable, grunting and grinning at Simon's whim. He worked him steadily until the grease gave out some ten minutes later. Jayne's chest was glistening; Simon had yet to break a sweat.

"Here--" Jayne said, reaching for the brown bottle, before suddenly shifting to "oh" as Simon's mouth closed around him.

With a silent, deep breath, Simon took all of Jayne's hard cock into his throat while squeezing the soft bundle below in his right hand. Wrapping his left fingers tight below his lips, he pumped and tensed conjointly as Jayne grew harder and thicker. Simon felt a heavy hand on the back of his head.

"Yeah...like that."

Minutes passed, hundreds of glides up and down and up, sucking tighter, reaching deeper; the light, jagged scrape of teeth and the tease of Simon's tongue in his slit. Jayne felt himself start to slip, but Simon gave no indication of slowing down. He knew he'd started to leak, but if Simon didn't care, then he sure as hell didn't.

It was creeping up on him faster than he'd expected. Not that Jayne ever expected much in this life, but it'd been a long time since he'd gotten a decent lick. It didn't take a genius to know consistency can win out over a lot of half-decent skills; fortunately, Simon had both. Simon also possessed the courtesy to inform an involved participant when he was approaching a climax. Predictably, Jayne did not.

Simon pulled off in time to spare himself the bitter taste, but not without taking a hit an inch below his right eye. He wrought the last eager drops onto Jayne's pants before pulling a handkerchief from his back pocket and cleaning his face.

"Thanks for the warning."

Jayne huffed. "Get what you pay for."

"I suppose you do."

Simon stood and composed himself, brushing the wrinkles out of his silk blend pants. Jayne stood and went about the completely pointless task of cleaning his mess by rubbing it further into his pants. When he began to put himself away (mindful of the zipper this time), Simon interrupted him.

"No. Don't."

"Don't what?"

Simon held his voice steady. Here goes nothing. "Take your pants off."

"Don't take my pants off? What'd you think I's doin?"

Rolling his eyes, Simon took a step forward and grabbed Jayne by the bulge. "Shut up." Jayne's eyes widened in confused anger, but at the first sign of protest, Simon clenched tighter. "I said, take your pants off."

"He ain't movin for least another ten minutes."

"I'm well aware of that."

With Jayne's dignity in the palm of his left hand, Simon undid the drawstring and zipper with his right. In two smooth motions he had Jayne stripped and flipped with a slam onto the bed.

" _Chufei wo si le_ \--"

"I said, shut up."

Simon held Jayne down with his left arm as he withdrew himself, removed the di-level blend from his pocket ( _hmm, blue_ ), strapped in, and finally retrieved the grease bottle from the shelf. The fidgeting was distracting, but not impeding. He noticed Jayne was hard again. Predictable.

He dexterously popped the cap and caught a dabble in his palm single-handed. It felt good in his fingers. Clean. Easy. Without warning ( _as deserved_ ), he drove two fingers deep into Jayne, leaning down to stroke his cock with the same rhythm. Jayne grabbed fistfuls of blanket and groaned, but said nothing. His face and neck burned red against the stretch. It'd been a damn long while.

Two became three, slow became steady, and Simon eventually abandoned Jayne's cock for his own. As he felt Jayne readying for him, he dripped on some last minute grease and pumped them both full strength. He took a step forward and effortlessly slid in, pushing deeper into Jayne's ass than he ever had into Kaylee. She'd been broken long before he came around, but that was irrelevant.

With a hand on each side, he thrusted hard, head back and eyes closed. He fucked with the energy he never could give her, the reckless abandon she'd never understand. The drive that could have saved them.

" _Wo de ma_ "

Simon dug his fingernails into the rough skin as he came, humming as Jayne clamped down tight around him. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he extricated and wiped himself down with his handkerchief. He was clean and composed before Jayne had even budged.

"Reckon you learned _that_ at med school," he mused, pulling up his pants.

Simon avoided his eyes, busy checking for sweat stains on his pristine shirt. "Among other things."

"So, why's you in here, anyways? You ain't poundin' Kaylee no more?"

Now he stared. Buttoned his shirt cuff. "No. Kaylee and I are not together."

Jayne put his shoes back on. "She'd go squirrely 'f she knew you was in here suckin' some cod."

"And I'm sure the Captain would show equal interest in _your_ choice of hobbies."

Jayne lept up and hovered inches from Simon's face. "Hey! Nunna this was my idea, _kuangren_. You wanna live another day on this boat? You keep your gorram mouth shut."

Simon turned and headed for the door.

"Doc! Hang on, now."

He paused.

"How's about this. I won't tell nobody you's sly as a mama's boy, you keep shut 'bout my part in it. That's a fair deal."

"I suppose it is. Good idea." And he closed the door behind him.

It took all Simon's remaining energy to withhold his laughter past Jayne's earshot. Making his way down the main corridor, he double-checked his hair and washed his face in the kitchen sink. He was positively beaming.

" _Ben tiansheng de yi dui rou_ ," he mumbled and laughed again, approaching Mal's door.

*******************

Mal pulled Simon closer and began methodically checking his pockets. They both knew this journey well but always enjoyed it all the same. Pulling a single latex condom from the right side, his face dropped in sweet disappointment.

"S'pect your memory's failin', boy. Must be old age."

Simon tread carefully. "Oh...I forgot."

"Mmhmm. I can see that." Mal reached down to feel Simon growing hard against his hand. "We are in quite the predicament, then."

"No, I'm alright," he assuaged, rubbing Mal right back. "Don't worry about me." Simon kissed him sweetly.

"Mm," Mal broke away, "You know I never do." They smiled. "S'pose you should be punished rightly, though. Not followin' Captain's orders and such."

"It's only right."

"I reckon it is."

**Author's Note:**

> Chinese translations:  
> goushi: crap  
> feiwu: junk  
> Zhen de shi tiancai: an absolute genius  
> Chufei wo si le: Over my dead body  
> Wo de ma: mother of god  
> kuangren: lunatic  
> Ben tiansheng de yi dui rou: stupid inbred stack of meat


End file.
